Author: Amy Clover

In July of 2012, I decided I wasn’t dreaming big enough. I attended a conference full of people doing amazing things for themselves, for charity, for their families… And I felt an incredible sense of inadequacy. Inadequate because what I felt inside wasn’t matching the actions of my outsides, and all these amazing people I was meeting were showing me that it could be done. My heart was overflowing with emotion, compassion and eagerness; I was just so scared to harness it for fear of rejection or failure.

In July, I decided to stop letting fear dictate my inaction, and instead, I began to let it fuel me to take more action.

How many times have you gotten right to the precipice of major life change only to fall back into old, comfortable habits, leaving your goals hanging in the ether? For me, it’s been countless.

Having fought so hard to overcome clinical depression, OCD and my battle with weight loss, I’ve roller-coastered all over the place. Every time I seemed to get to that tipping point, it felt like something would shove me full-force right back into my old habits! It’s one of the most frustrating experiences. You know change is possible; other people have done it.

I remember it very distinctly. I was in the car with my best friend whom I had just picked up, and I was giddy with excitement. Over the past month or two, I had talked her through some dates gone bad and tried to lift her up to remember how great she was. I was always so happy and supportive when she told me when one went well.

I had gone through a terrible breakup 6 months prior and had just started to date again when out of nowhere, I met a man who was different from all the others. I knew this guy was a keeper, and I was so excited to confide in my best friend all about how I’d finally found someone worth spending time with! After a few minutes of small talk into our car ride, I excitedly blurt out, “Ok, can I dish about this new guy for a second?” As if expecting it, she snidely shot back, “I don’t want to hear every little detail about it!” I was stunned.

I always thought happy people were fakers. Growing up with clinical depression and obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), I never knew what it was like to be happy for more than a few moments at a time. I was so used to struggling that I couldn’t imagine a life in which every day was easy. I couldn’t grasp the idea that other people’s happiness could be real. Or maybe I just didn’t want to.

Because I didn’t want to burden other people with my depression, I didn’t talk to anyone about it. I tried to act normal. I tried to be like everyone else. I drank heavily and took diet pills to make myself more attractive so that people would concentrate on my outsides (heaven forbid they find out how much was actually wrong with me). I felt trapped by my disorders, by everything I thought was wrong with me. It got to the point of holding so much in, I didn’t think I could handle it anymore.